L'Histoire de Nous
by MegaMon2580
Summary: Translates to 'The Story of Us'. Basically, it's the PAW Patrol's backstory. *Rated T because I'm paranoid and for mentions of past child abuse and other slightly darker themes without going too in-depth*
1. Chapitre Un - Ryder

Okay! Here's the origins story I was talking about. Any of you who have read my other story '_Helping Paws_' might recognise some things from there in this story. Maybe not right now, but soon. But, you don't have to read that to understand this since this is a prequel to the actual show. Anyways, almost four months later, I bring you the first chapter!

*Edit - I fixed some of the wording since I didn't like how it turned out... I'm terrible, I know.

* * *

_A boy that was no more than eight was packing a backpack full of clothes. Another boy who was a year older watched._

_"Where are you going?"_

_"Père (Father) told me partir (to leave)."_

_A hand grabbing a shoulder causing the other to spin around._

_"You don't have to do this!"_

_"I no have un choix (a choice)!"_

_"But you could live with me!"_

_"I want to, mais (but) you know how Père (Father) is."_

_"But, I'll miss you."_

_"I miss you, too. Je promets de rester en contact (I promise to stay in touch)."_

_Regretful green and blue eyes covered with brown coloured contacts turned to sorrowful blue._

_"Don't forget about me."_

_"How could I? Tu es mon meilleur ami qui est aussi mon frère (You're my best friend who's also my brother)."_

_A hug. A peck on the cheek followed by a peck on the other._

_"Je t'aime, frère (I love you, brother)."_

_"Je t'aime, aussi (I love you, too)."_

_"GARÇON, JE PENSAIS QUE JE VOUS AI DIT DE PARTIR (BOY, I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO LEAVE)!" _

_A flinch. Tears threatening to fall._

_"Are you sure you have to go?"_

_"I do."_

_A rough hand grabbing the back of a shirt. A scream of terror._

_"RYDER!"_

_"ALLER (GO)! VA-T-EN D'ICI (GET AWAY FROM HERE)!"_

_Footsteps pounding on the floor. Silent tears falling down bruised cheeks._

_"Pensiez-vous honnêtement que vous pourriez vous en sortir en voyant ce _garçon _(Did you honestly think you could get away with seeing that _boy_)?"_

_"Va te faire foutre (Bugger off*)."_

_"Qu'est-ce que vous avez dit (What did you say)?"_

_"R-rien, Père (N-nothing, Father)! Je venais de partir (I was just leaving)."_

_"Bien (Good). Maintenant, sors de ma vue (Now, get out of my sight)."_

_Arms scrambled to pick up a backpack. Legs struggled to stand up as they ran as quick as they could handle._

* * *

Ryder's eyes snapped open with a gasp. He wiped tear tracks from his now healed cheeks. Of all the memories he had to remember, why did it have to be about the last time he saw him? He sniffled slightly and wiped his nose on the sleeve of his now off-white shirt.

"When was the last time I had un bain (a bath)?" Ryder asked himself out loud when his stomach made itself known and demanded it be fed. He put a hand over it with a grimace. "Et (And) when was the last time I ate quelque chose (something)?"

Another noisy growl cut through the silence and his mouth opened into a silent scream, his arms digging themselves into his belly.

"Arrête ça, _arrête ça_, _ARRÊTE ÇA_ (Make it stop, _make it stop_, _MAKE IT STOP_)!" he screamed at the air.

Yes, he knew that, logically, him shouting out like he was wouldn't make the agony go away, but the childish part of him hoped that it would help.

* * *

_An eight-year-old boy was laying on his bed massaging nearly seven-year-old Ryder's scalp, the younger boy's head on the elder's chest. He closed his eyes half-way when he felt the boy press a gentle kiss to his temple._

_"You feeling any better, brother?" he whispered._

_"Non (No)," Ryder murmured._

_Ryder had gone over to his house when he had suddenly collapsed in front of the slightly older boy. He immediately tried to pry what was wrong out of Ryder but got nothing. Neither of them liked to see the other in any kind of distress._

_"I'm hoping that whatever's wrong isn't too serious."_

_Ryder hummed and he heard the boy exhale softly in worry. Ryder could only guess that he looked as bad as he felt. He would grimace every once in a while, a faint whine coming from the back of his throat when the pain spiked. He had an idea as to why he felt sick, but he wasn't about to admit it. He felt too ashamed to tell._

_Just then, Ryder jerked hard in the elder boy's arms, his fingers gripping the boy's shirt with a bruising grip and he buried his face into the lithe chest. Screw his pride! Ryder could _not _handle the pain anymore!_

_"Ryder! What's wrong?!" the boy asked in a panicked voice._

_A loud rumble suddenly cut through the air and Ryder felt his cheeks get warm. He raised an eyebrow._

_"Was that…?" he began when another fainter grumble answered before Ryder could reply._

_His face grew hotter. It was… Embarrassing, to say the least. He heard the elder boy sigh and ghost his fingers from the younger's scalp down his neck and chest to his abdomen. He then began to knead his hands in circles into his starved stomach and Ryder moaned with relief, the hunger pains beginning to recede._

_"You're hungry," he observed._

_"Guess so," Ryder replied._

_"I'll get you something to eat."_

_"No go."_

_"Why not?"_

_"I no want you partir (to leave)."_

_"I'd only be gone for a moment."_

_Ryder whimpered and clung closer._

_"Non (No)."_

_"No?"_

_"Non (No)."_

_Ryder felt the eight-year-old heave a sigh. Ryder hadn't known English for long and he still had trouble grasping some of the words. He constantly added French into his English. Sometimes, he would skip English altogether and just speak in French. Luckily, his best friend had some knowledge of the language._

_"You really don't want me to leave?"_

_"I don't. You is making me feel better by staying with me."_

_The boy placed a soft kiss to Ryder's temple when another growl from the younger boy's tummy sent vibrations into his palm._

_"Alrighty then," he said, a small smile on his lips._

* * *

Many moments later, Ryder opened his eyes when he realised that the agonising pain had gone away and had settled down to a dull ache, his belly quivering under his palm. Ryder wiped the tear tracks from his face before settling down back onto the makeshift bed. He took deep breaths in through his nose and out through his mouth as his eyes began to slip closed on their own.

He could steal more food later. He had enough to get by for a while longer. He'd be okay.

* * *

The days slowly blended into a month. The humid June air did little to make the morning comfortable as the sun's rays hit his face and he groaned.

'_Comment pourrait-il être le matin déjà (How could it be morning already)?_' Ryder thought.

His abdomen rumbled lightly under his fingertips and he bit back a curse. Ryder's head pounded and he kneaded his knuckles into his temples. God, everything ached from his head to his belly to his legs; even his hair sticking up on his head hurt.

Ryder rubbed the sleep from his eyes with his knuckles before running his palms over his flushed cheeks. He felt terrible. But, he couldn't dwell on it. He had to stay up. He couldn't crawl back under the thin covers just because he didn't feel good.

He sneezed violently and trembled as the wind picked up while huddling his vest closer to his body in an attempt to keep warm. Ryder knew it would be in vain, but he tried.

But only for the sake of living to see his best-friend-who's-also-a-brother again someday.

That was another thing. Ryder didn't really care for his body or his well-being as he was too wrapped up in how others were. Basically, he put others' needs before his own. His best friend had tried to get him to "worry about Ryder for a change" as he had put it, but Ryder's father made him disregard himself. That always seemed to piss him off to no end, though Ryder had no idea why. If his parent wasn't worried about Ryder's health, why should he himself be?

Ryder shook himself from his thoughts as he took an apple he had stolen days before and bit into it. It wasn't as crunchy as he would have liked, but it'd do.

Suddenly, there was a loud crashing sound causing the boy to jump.

What was that?! An animal? An intruder (please no, he thought)? Police (he hoped not)?

Ryder pressed himself to a corner and shook, his breathing picking up. He watched in terror as a large shadow came closer and closer until it revealed itself to be…

_'Un chiot (A puppy)?'_

* * *

And that's chapter one! So, it's not your typical origins story you've read (I hope...). Anyways, how was it? Good? Bad? Meh? Lemme know! Your reviews help me better my writing :]. Depending on the responses I get, I might post chapter two sooner rather than later (I've got like twelve chapters done and I'm working on the thirteenth, but I don't want to post them unless people want me to)...

Until next time!

~*MegaMon2580*~

*'Bugger off!' can also be translated into something along the lines of 'Screw off!', if you catch my drift.


	2. Chapitre Deux - Chase

Alright, here's chapter two! Sorry about taking a bit to post, but FanFiction was being a little git. I've gotten three reviews and two follows! That's more than I thought I'd get out of this story, tbh. So, one review said that the beginning of the first chapter where there were the flashbacks was hard to follow, but that's the idea! You're not supposed to know who the other person is (other than Ryder). Hint hint, Ryder's the one who speaks in broken English with the French words in between. All of the flashbacks are from a young Ryder's perspective, but you will find out who the other person is! Soon, I promise. Place your guesses in the reviews, if you'd like, but I won't say whether or not you're right or wrong ;].

* * *

'_Un chiot (A puppy)?_' Ryder thought.

The brown puppy sniffed the air and stopped a few feet away from the nine-year-old, both of their eyes wide, Ryder's in fear and the puppy's in shock.

"H-hello," the puppy said softly.

Ryder bit down a scream. Not because it could talk, but because of how his heart rate shot up even higher. The puppy noticed it too as he placed a gentle paw on his knee. Ryder jumped and smacked his head on the wall behind him, his breathing at a point where he was beginning to see black spots dancing across his vision.

"Hey hey, I didn't mean to frighten you," he said. "Easy, easy."

Ryder took in a few shaky breaths. Minutes passed, but he got it back under control, the black spots vanishing.

"Now that we're all calm, you wanna tell me your name?" the puppy asked.

Ryder didn't reply. The puppy smiled sadly.

"You're kind of like me, in a way," he continued. "My name is Chase."

"M' name's Ryder," Ryder finally said.

The puppy, now dubbed Chase, yipped softly as to not startle the boy any further.

"It's nice to meet you, Ryder! Hey, uh, do you mind if I hang here for a while?"

"C'n I ask why?"

"I ran away from my owner. He isn't nice to me."

Ryder gave him an understanding smile.

"I c'n relate," he responded. "My Père (Father) wasn't nice t' me, too."

Chase whimpered in sympathy before stepping closer to Ryder. The boy flinched back a little but allowed the brown puppy to come near.

"What kind of dog is you?" Ryder asked. "You're very beau (handsome)."

"Aw, thanks! I'm a German Shepard," Chase replied.

Ryder grabbed a granola bar and offered it to the pup.

"You must be hungry," Ryder said. "Want some?"

"Would I ever," Chase answered with a giggle.

Ryder couldn't help but join in. His own stomach felt like the acid was trying to burn him from the inside out, but it was worth it to see Chase so happy. It had been a while since he'd seen a happy smile like he was giving.

* * *

Hours later, Chase settled down on Ryder's lap. Ryder had since gotten used to the puppy's company and began to find himself enjoying it.

"I like you," Chase said.

"Me?" Ryder questioned. "Pourquoi (Why)?"

"You've been so kind to me these past few hours, and yet I hardly know you."

"My story no est (is) nice to hear or think about. I want to know about you more. How can someone so kind have a bad owner?"

Ryder smiled internally in triumph as Chase took a deep breath before starting his tale.

"The only emotions I've ever known from my owner was loneliness and fear," he began. "But, his ex-girlfriend stopped him from hitting me. She fed me when he didn't. She kept me company when he didn't. She was the only one who was there who cared," Chase's voice cracked with emotion before turning bitter. "But, when they split, she wasn't able to take me with her.

"She begged and pleaded with him, but he wouldn't allow it. Since then, the loneliness, fear, and hunger have gotten worse. Instead of leaving me alone all day, it turned into days. It turned into bruises. It turned into getting fed once every other day. I finally had enough. I ran away from him two days ago. I know he's looking for me, but I don't want to go back."

Chase allowed the boy to process what he said.

"He abusé (abused) you," Ryder said in an even tone.

"Yes," Chase replied, "he did."

Ryder took another moment to process his thoughts. He nodded when he was ready for Chase to continue.

"Usually, I'm too scared to get too close to any humans, but you're different. You've shown me kindness. You're petting me gently. You're staying with me. You're giving me food even though you're really hungry yourself."

Chase gently nuzzled his nose closer to the boy's grumbling tummy in an attempt to make it feel better. Ryder smiled lightly at how much effort the pup was using. He knew it really wouldn't make a difference, but the thought made it feel like it would.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is thank you," Chase concluded. "Thank you for everything you've done for me for these past few hours. You didn't have to, and yet, you did."

"No problem," Ryder said. He scratched his fingernails under Chase's chin and giggled when he began to wag his tail in excitement. "You need the food more than moi (me)."

"But it's important you get something for yourself, too," Chase argued.

He jabbed Ryder in the abdomen with his nose, the boy moaning softly in pain. The pup whimpered because he accidentally did it a little harder than he meant to, but he knew it would get his point across. And Ryder knew it.

"You're not supposed to be used to having little to no food all the time. You're supposed to be eating more."

"What else is I supposé (supposed) to do? I can't keep stealing because je suis (I'm) hungry! Everyone need more food than moi (me)."

Ryder stopped massaging the puppy's head when his belly rumbled loudly at the fact that it was still as empty as it was weeks before, months even. It made Ryder fold in on himself nearly crushing Chase. He turned pained, tearful eyes to Chase making him felt bad. Clearly, there was more to Ryder's backstory than he thought. He wanted to ask about it, but the haunted, shadowed look in Ryder's expression stopped him. It made Chase realise just how broken Ryder really was. He saw more than Ryder probably meant to show.

Chase saw looks of hurt, longing, and denial, as well as betrayal, love, sorrow, and most of all, regret. But, regret about what?

* * *

"Uh, what are we doing here?" Chase asked.

Ryder and Chase were currently outside of a little cafe in town. Chase had been with Ryder for about a week, the humid June days slowly turning into hot and sticky July. It was nearing midnight, so no one was up. Well, except for them, that is.

"I is out of food, so I has to get more," Ryder replied.

The boy took a bright red apple from the shelf and put it in his vest pocket.

"Ryder! That's stealing!" Chase shouted.

"I don't have un choix (a choice)!" Ryder protested.

He coughed harshly into his elbow and Chase gave him a look.

"There's always a choice!" Chase argued.

"What's done is done. Let's get out of here before…"

Ryder wasn't able to finish his sentence as, unfortunately, the racket they made caused the lights inside the cafe to turn on.

"What is going on out here?!"

* * *

Ooo, cliffhanger! What'll happen now? Well, I know what'll happen, but you guys don't :P. How was it? Good? Bad? Meh? Want to wash your eyes with bleach? Lemme know! Constructive criticism, amirite?

Till next time!

~MegaMon2580


	3. Chapitre Trois - Mr Porter

And after what feels like a year, I'm back with another chapter! Please don't kill me... Anyways, how have all of you been? Safe, I hope!

* * *

"What are you two doing here? Don't you know what time it is?!"

Ryder gulped and let out a soft sigh. He took the apple out of his vest pocket and held it in his hand, his head looking away in shame.

"You were going to steal?" the man asked in shock.

Ryder didn't reply, so Chase took it upon himself to do so.

"He didn't want to," Chase said.

"Then why are you?"

Silence.

"I no have un choix (a choice)," Ryder whispered at last.

His voice scratched against his throat and he did his best not to cough to clear it.

"There's always a choice," the owner replied just as soft. "How about this, you two come inside and I'll whip up something for you two to eat."

"Only as long as it's okay with you, sir," Chase replied.

Ryder nodded, but still kept his guard up. Could he trust this man? Probably. But he'd still be careful. If experience had taught him anything, it was to never trust anyone at first. No matter what.

* * *

"Alright, the food's done!" the owner said.

Chase barked lightly and wagged his tail. Ryder rolled his eyes fondly at him. He wished he could be that excited about food. He was hungry, famished even, but his stomach roiled at the thought.

As the owner placed two bowls of chicken noodle soup on the table and another on the floor, he opened his mouth to speak.

"My name is Mr Porter," the owner said. "What's yours?"

"M' name's Chase," Chase replied after practically inhaling half of the bowl set in front of him, "and this is my new owner Ryder."

"Pleased to meet you, Chase and Ryder!"

Ryder hesitated before shaking Mr Porter's hand whereas Chase immediately did so.

Soon, Chase finished his bowl of soup off and asked for more while Ryder barely touched his.

"Is something wrong, Ryder?" Mr Porter asked.

"N-no no," Ryder replied softly. "'M not tha' hungry."

Ryder bit his lip to keep a curse down when his belly growled loudly.

"Mmmhmm," Mr Porter said with a raised eyebrow.

Mr Porter took the rest of what was in the pot and put it in Chase's bowl. The German Shepherd ate the rest of it in a matter of minutes. Ryder still looked at what was left of his meal and pushed it away with a shake of his head. The older male sighed.

"Kiddo, this isn't healthy," Mr Porter said.

"What you mean?"

"I mean it isn't healthy to withhold food from yourself."

"'M not."

"Yes, you are. At least have one bite."

Ryder took a small bite from the spoon and gagged. But, he tried to take another, followed by many more. Soon, the bowl was finished, but Ryder felt… _Weird_. He couldn't describe it. He felt better with the food in his system, but his abdomen felt like rejecting it.

A powerful wave of nausea made him swallow hard and he lowered his head to the table with a gentle _thwack_, his arms curling over his tummy.

"Ryder? You okay?" Chase whispered to him. Mr Porter had walked to the kitchen sink to clean the two bowls.

"Mmmhmm," was all Ryder said before closing his eyes and letting out a soft moan. He heard the elder man sigh and suddenly return with something.

"Why did you bring the waste bin over?" Chase asked.

"It's just in case," Mr Porter replied.

"In case… What?"

"In case Ryder brings up what he just ate."

Mr Porter placed the bin on the floor just in his line of sight. Nope, he was _not_ going to throw up. His body needed the food; the energy. Ryder gagged and held a hand over his mouth. _No_! He was _not_ about to _throw up_ in front of _Mr Porter _and_ Chase_!

"Let it happen, kiddo," Mr Porter said softly.

He shook his head. His _dignity_ was on the line here! The jostling made his stomach contents slosh around and he knew he couldn't hold it in much longer. Mr Porter placed the lip of the bin under Ryder's chin.

"You'll feel better afterwards."

Another light shake of his head. If he had to shake his head one more time, he thought, he would be done for.

"Come on, Ryder."

He didn't shake his head, but he did bite his lip harder than before. He refused to show weakness. He _couldn't_.

"Ryder. Please."

Hearing the begging in Mr Porter's voice made him crack. He felt his abdomen squeeze harder and he lurched forwards. He felt hot tears run down his face as he painfully expelled his stomach contents into the bottom of the waste bin. The runny bile mixed in with the partially digested chicken noodle soup and made his throat burn.

He hiccoughed and raised his head multiple times but would have to lower it again with a painful sounding retch. Finally, he was able to sit back and take in shaky breaths. Chase had since moved to his feet and Mr Porter had since been running a gentle hand along his back. He wiped his face with a napkin to clear away the tear tracks and vomit around his mouth and chin.

"You feeling alright, Ryder?" Mr Porter asked.

"'M fine," Ryder protested.

"Mmmhmm. How's about you stand up and walk to me then?"

He watched as Mr Porter took the waste bin and walked it over to the kitchen sink to clean it out. The nine-year-old sighed yet stood up when his knees wobbled and suddenly gave out. Chase caught him mid-fall to prevent him from having a faceplant.

Mr Porter walked over with a saddened sigh. He reached out a gentle hand when Ryder suddenly flinched back with wide eyes and a gasp. Mr Porter didn't move to put his hand down, but he didn't move to continue his path.

"I'm so sorry," Mr Porter apologised. "I didn't mean to frighten you."

"'S okay," Ryder slurred out.

"How about this? You two spend the night here. I've got a spare bedroom for you guys to sleep in."

Ryder hesitated and gave the older man calculating eyes. After a few moments of thinking, Ryder gave a soft nod while closing his eyes and Chase yipped in happiness.

"Alright! I'll set up the bedroom for you two and you both can take a bath if you'd like."

Another nod and yip. Mr Porter laughed silently and led them both to the bathroom. It had a little sink, loo, and bathtub that could double as a shower.

"Use any of the soaps as you please," Mr Porter said. "I'll set out a clean set of pyjamas. My grandson's too small for them now, but I think you'll fit in them now."

Ryder thanked him and went into the bathroom. He set his clothes out for the elder man to wash and he scrubbed the dirt and grime from his skin and hair. The water soothed his sore muscles and cleared out his sinuses.

'_Merde (Damn it*)! Et après je me suis dit de ne plus jamais faire confiance à personne (And after I had told myself to never trust anyone ever again)!_' he thought.

He quickly dried off with a white, fluffy towel and put the pyjamas Mr Porter set the counter on. Soon, he was curled up on his left side under warm, fuzzy blankets and heavy quilts. His aching body finally allowed itself to stay down. He couldn't move even if he wanted to. He felt Chase curl up along his side, his back to Ryder's churning stomach and lithe chest. He then let himself go under the influence of sleep.

* * *

How was it? Good? Bad? Meh? Lemme know! Constructive criticism is always helpful :]. I don't have a lot to say for once. Wow...

~*MegaMon2580*~

*'Merde' can also translate to 'sh*t' or 'f*ck', but I meant it as 'damn it'.


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